


But your eyes see right through (That's all they do)

by Xenomorphic



Category: Robin Hood (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17075621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenomorphic/pseuds/Xenomorphic
Summary: "And you? Why are you helping me?""I believe you know why, Robin."





	But your eyes see right through (That's all they do)

**Author's Note:**

> Snippet of a Mistborn AU I might or might not expand on some other time (year), but I just have to get off my system now.
> 
> Characters belong to English (?) lore, and these particular versions to Lionsgate/Appian Way/Safehouse, I presume. Plotwise, credits to the one and only Brandon Sanderson. I'm just playing with all of this, trying not to fall into madness. Title comes from a song ("I don't care") by Apocalyptica.  
> Also, this is romantic, and there are considerable changes to the Sheriff's moral compass, although they're not easy to spot given the length of this.

When he wakes up, he doesn't quite register it at first, his thoughts sluggish, his senses dull. So it's understandable that it takes him maybe ten minutes to realize the ceiling he's staring at isn't his own. He fully wakes up in an instant at that, stimuli flooding his senses and memories rushing into his mind's eye. Sharp pain racing through his right side nearly knocks him out again when he sits up on the unfamiliar bed he's lying on and he can feel steel, iron and pewter in the pit of his stomach, probably enough to escape if he's fast. _Probably_.

"I wouldn't try it," a familiar, tired voice says to his left.

He has one sudden spike of panic before it diminishes, nearly vanishes. _Brass_.

"Escaping, I mean."

Geoffrey, Lord Governor of Nottingham, stands up and surrounds the bed in slow and measured steps to reach a water pitcher atop a table. He pours water into a glass with unsteady hands and approaches him, faces him.

There are dark bags under his eyes and his skin looks waxy and pale, worn. His clothes, a white linen shirt under a black wool coat and dark green pants tucked into black leather boots, seem comfortable and as polished as everything he's ever seen the older man wear, but in disarray, something so small he wouldn't notice it if he hadn't been looking for it ever since that day at the Governance Hall.

Geoff offers him the glass.

"I assume this is your home," he says in the most measured voice he can muster. His throat is dry as a wasteland so he shugs a hearty gulp of water.

"House, not home," he replies. "I believe you know the difference."

He doesn't look any different, the same wrinkles, the same deep blue eyes, the same Lord Governor, but also the same man who loved Robin's parents as his own family.

He's lost his footing now. Not only their plan depended on Robin gaining the man's trust, but over the course of the last few months Geoff had not only gained _his_ trust, but his heart and every waking thought as well. It was jarring to learn Geoff was an allomancer like himself (was he a Mistborn?), it was world-shattering knowing he'd found out about Robin, what he was and his intentions (but had he?). "I saw the other allomancer you fought against, it was quite impressive what you managed to do to her. She was Mistborn, did you know?"

"You don't sound very impressed, if I may say."

For a moment the length of a heartbeat, Geoff maintains his stoicity, but then he blinks and it all crumbles apart. The Lord Governor is almost twice his age, he knows this, of course, but in one second he looks decades older than that: he slumps against one of the bedposts and a ragged breath escapes him, exhausted; a deep frown adds new wrinkles in his forehead as he shuts his eyes tight.

"You know what could have happened to you if they'd found you before I did, yes?"

He shrugs, nearly disbelieving.

"They'd have kill me, so?"

Geoff groans.

"They wouldn't have done _just_ that, Robin. They would have taken you to the Lord Protector himself, and he would have ripped every secret, every thought out of you. Whatever it is you're doing that requiered entering the Garrison, he would know: anyone who's helping you, any next step or safe place, everything. Only then they'd kill you."

He feels like the walls are closing in on him, like Geoff is growing centimeters, then meters.

"What's it to you?"

Those blue eyes look at him for a long time, searching for something, he doesn't know what.

"How do you think your parents would feel, if you died? How do you think they'd feel, knowing I could've stopped that?"

Robin snaps. "Don't you use my parents' memory like that!"

Whatever normal human reaction, like flinching, he was expecting to provoke he doesn't get it, the man remains tired and haunted.

"I'll use their memory as I very well please. You are their son, the fact they're dead won't change that. I don't believe in an afterlife, never have and never will, but they did. How do you think they'd feel, what do you think they'd think seeing you act so reckless, wherever they may be?"

"That doesn't give you the right."

Geoff rolls his eyes, a mundane gesture that manages to look distinguished on him.

"Wether you like it or not, I knew your parents for longer than you. I believe I have a good idea of what they'd let me get away with when it comes to you, Robin."

"And what wouldn't they let you get away with?"

His face goes surprisingly soft at that.

"Plenty."

"Right, alright. It doesn't matter. I want to leave now, will you stop me?"

"Yes."

Robin nearly sneers, but Geoff lifts a hand in a placating gesture.

"Rest for a little longer. You've just woken up after being unconscious for 6 hours and you were in an intense fight. You can stay here and I'll send someone for you in a couple of hours. I'll lend you one of my carriages to get you home."

"Where's the catch?"

" _Catch_?" Geoff sounds insulted. "There's no _catch_ , Robin. I will help you in any way I can, and I _can_ in this situation."

"And you won't tell anybody?"

"Not a soul."

He thinks about it, lets it roll inside his head.

"Then what's the price?"

The Lord tilts his head to the side in such an endearing manner, gives him the gentlest look.

"I don't have a price either. But, if you are willing to give me something for this, then, please, tell me: why?"

It's a good question, an unexpected question, he must admit. Why? He could give a dozen different answers, from the heroic to the vengeful. He chooses the one he believes to be the most honest.

"Because I don't agree," back straight and head held high.

Geoff nods after a moment, gathers himself before heading towards the door. Robin speaks up before losing his chance.

"And you? Why are _you_ helping me?"

Geoff stops only for a second, perhaps caught off guard, then he turns to look straight at him, his face torn between fondness and sadness.

"I believe you know _why_ , Robin."

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me of any mistakes I made (grammar wise)! I wrote this without a check ajajsja, also in my phone and I hardly reviewed it. Also tell me anything you might want to, about the story, the characters, the narration.  
> Hope you've enjoyed it and have a wonderful week ♡


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